The Harvest of the Idle

سونٛتَے کۄپوٗتؠ ڈیٖشتھ ژَلن تہٕ

Sontay koapoot deeshith tsalan te

At the dawn of spring, the unworthy sons flee

کَمس وِزِ کرن نہٕ کٲیی

Kamis wizi karan na kaayi

Shunning their toil when the season calls

ہردٕ ییٚلہِ ڈیٖنٛشن ہیٚلؠ اَلن تہٕ

Harud yeli deenshan heli alan te

When autumn arrives with its swaying sheaves

کتھ کرن گۄنہِ تہٕ کتھ کرن لٲیی

Kath karan goni te kath karan laayi

What shall they gather, and what shall they store?